Kresley Cole - [MacCarrick Brothers 02] by If You Desire Page B

he’d had no money to speak of and could never afford anything remotely like what she’d described.
    Then he’d remembered that he could never have her anyway….
    Now, years later, he stared at the ceiling as round and round his mind played out the same scenarios and consequences.
    Far too early in life, he’d learned about consequences, both avoidable and unavoidable.
    The morning after he and his brothers had found and read the Leabhar —which was thought to have been destroyed—Hugh had woken to his mother’s screams. She’d discovered her husband, Leith, the clan laird and a bear of a man in his prime, cold and dead in their bed.
    And then she’d shrieked her blame. Hugh had been nigh on fourteen, far too young to be saddled with that guilt.
    Years later, Ethan had scoffed at the curse, calling their father’s death a freak coincidence, and found a bride from the neighboring MacReedy clan who would actually dare to wed a “cursed MacCarrick son.” Sarah had fallen—or, as most believed, had been pushed by Ethan—from a turret at Carrickliffe.
    Then Court had lost his heart to a foreign lass and intended to marry her, though he knew that he could never give her children and would only bring her misery.
    Court had been defiant, daring to challenge their fate—until his Annalía had been a breath away from being shot in the head. Court had finally left her behind, safe at her home in Andorra, though it had nearly killed him. She’d become his entire world.
    Consequences. The lines within that book said Hugh was not to marry or to bind. Hugh worked to convince himself there was a difference between married and wed .
    Damn it, there would be no sealed union. If Jane agreed, they would be wed, but not truly bound together. As long as he didn’t claim her, she’d be safe. Surely. And God knew, he had no intentions of keeping her.
    He stood when Jane came out five minutes later, her eyes bright with either unshed tears or fury. A good wager said the latter.
    What’s it to be, then? What’s the verdict?
    Weyland was right behind her. “I’ll just go send a note to the minister and pick up the marriage license. Jane, you need to begin packing immediately.”
    Then Weyland was gone, leaving Hugh so dumbfounded he nearly rocked on his feet. “You’re going tae…” he began, but his voice broke lower. “We’re tae…marry?”
    “Yes, I am constrained to agree to this insanity—you are not. And you will ruin my life if you don’t refuse to do this for him.” Turmoil and emotion rolled off her in waves. She’d always been like that—volatile, like an explosive. Yet no one but Hugh seemed to understand just how complicated Jane was.
    So Weyland had succeeded. Hugh hadn’t expected her to be happy about the nuptials, but…“A temporary marriage to me counts as a ruined life?”
    Every word she spoke was clipped with her proper English accent, and dripping with outrage. “Do you know why I was with Frederick Bidworth— Lord Whiting—this morning?” She answered her own question, “Because I was accepting his sodding proposal today!”
    Hugh’s vision swam. But why should he be surprised? He’d wondered as each month went by, for years, why she hadn’t married. Wait. How had Weyland not known about this? He had to have. She was about to be “settled” without any interference from them.
    Bloody hell. This just kept getting better. Hugh had wanted to kill Bidworth for kissing Jane—whom the man had thought was his.
    “However, my plans were interrupted when you attacked Freddie.”
    Jane was within her rights to be kissing her soon-to-be fiancé. Just because Hugh could think of naught but her didn’t mean she was affected the same way by him. She’d had a life of her own these last years, and Hugh had just been dropped in the middle of it, swinging as he landed. “You were about to accept an earl, yet your father is still insisting on me?” It was a genuine question, but she took it as a